


Starless

by spicedrobot



Series: Ko-fi Strawpoll Compilation [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cultist Tekhartha Zenyatta, Fuck Or Die, Human Cultist Tekhartha Zenyatta, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Meld, Penis In Vagina Sex, Public Sex, Teratophilia, Voyeurism, Young Genji Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15611313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicedrobot/pseuds/spicedrobot
Summary: Instead of killing Genji, the Shimada clan offers him as sacrifice to the family’s secret deity.





	Starless

 

When Genji was a boy, he went everywhere in the Shimada estate. Not that there weren’t forbidden places, secret rooms accessible to only the elders, but Genji was nothing if not stubborn. He’d been in the grand halls, the hidden backrooms where fresh blood stained the tatami, spotted quiet trysts in the dark of secluded chambers. There was only one place he’d never seen: the room beneath the temple.

The room has no windows, no entrance besides the door manned by armed guards at all hours. It was a painfully curious unknown for the second Shimada son. It was the one place his father had forbade him to enter with the glare reserved for his enemies. It was the one thing Genji had accepted about life in the clan.

The one thing until his father’s death.

Hanzo hadn’t looked so sad since their mother died, a thought that emerges blearily.

Genji’s face aches, and there's blood crusted on his eyelashes. He should be afraid, he’s hurt, but there’s only the soft sound of something dragging along smooth stone and the night sky, distant and starless.

The familiar doorway he had coveted with fanatic intensity all those years ago slides over him. The air is stale here, a tepid chill cloaking his body. Vertical metal bars loom and pass, and he whimpers as he’s dropped to the floor. Several locks snap shut while the ceiling wavers in sickly whirls.

A dungeon then. He tastes salt, the bitter tang of copper. He would die here.

The lighting, gloomy and faintly green, flickers and swells. Genji squints against it, warmth bleeding into his skin like the rays of a fading sun.

A hum. A whisper. Whispers. He struggles to sit up, to do anything, but all he can manage is casting his eyes towards the source of the sound.

Something stares back.

It emerges in parts. Glowing green eyes, a diamond-shaped face the color of wisteria. Tall, taller than him, thin and naked, chained at ankle and wrist with a tattered cloak at its back.

The whispers, dissonant and not in any language Genji knows, grow louder, more excited; in startling unison, they say his name.

 _Genji_.

There is fear, for a moment, at the base of his spine, somewhere lost and primordial. It would overtake him if not for the voices fading away, leaving one, soft and resonant, heartbreakingly familiar in a way he doesn’t understand. Tears blur his vision.

 _You are injured._ Warmth swells in his chest, tingling to the ends of his body. The numbness fades, granting pain a foothold, but Genji feels alive, torn from the brink.

The creature lowers to his knees next to him, and Genji doesn’t flinch away as a long, clawed hand eases his head into his lap, carding through his green hair.

“Who...are you?” Genji asks, the answer like sand between his fingers.

The creature’s emotions fade from one to the next, felt rather than seen: eagerness, exhaustion, something bright hot and all too familiar.

 _I have watched your line for generations_ , the creature says. Thinks. Old, sorrowful bitterness brushes along Genji’s mind. The kind only love could birth.

 _I am one who passes judgement._ An ache, needfulness. A hot tug between his legs. Genji moans. _Their code is not mine. They will kill you if I do not._

Genji turns enough to notice the guards have taken their stations at the door, hands clutched in front of them, inches from the weapons at their hips.

 _Sacrifice sustains me, and I am offered so little. They hope you will please me._ The creature stares into Genji’s eyes. _They know you do._

Genji shakes his head, the ghostly tones muffled as if in another room.

“I do,” he manages, raspy and weak. “Why do I…?”

 _I have watched you_ , the creature says. _A young child, his father’s bird. One who flit from dangerous heights, smiling and laughing. A fledgling lost in a single, unfortunate misstep._

There is something like fear then. Something unearthed, painful and forgotten. Falling. Genji remembers the petals against the endless blue sky. His own scream.

 _Your soul slipped away._ The creature’s voice tightens. _I reached to you. Black became green._

_They were afraid. They pulled you from me._

The warmth in Genji’s guts tugs again, and the gentle smoothness of the creature’s hand glides over his face, strokes through his hair, green, green since childhood but not birth.

 _They grow impatient_. Genji watches the creature’s free hand slip up his thighs, settling between them, his own tongue fat and stupid in his mouth, a growl from nowhere trapped.

 _What do you wish? I can end your suffering._ The whispers of heat along Genji’s body throb steadily, stoked by the creature’s voice. _Or I can take something equivalent._ A fever pitch when the creature’s hand settles just above his cock, aching against his thigh.

The creature glances to the guards, still poised, waiting.

The building need should terrify Genji if it wasn’t so familiar. Something he understands, sad, lonely yearnings. A gnawing hunger.

The glowing green of the creature’s eyes pulse when Genji’s palm slips over his knuckles.

“I trust you.”

Too many feelings wash over Genji then, the sensation spilling his tears. He eases Genji to the floor, and even the damp chill of stone doesn’t reach him when the creature rises on his knees, thighs sliding open to reveal the faint, glowing line of green that matches the color of his eyes.

 _Here_ , the creature murmurs. His fore and middle fingers spread the space between, supple and iridescent, twitching beneath Genji’s gaze. _Fill me._

Long, smooth fingers cut at the remnants of Genji’s pants, the fabric parting like a sharpened blade to paper. The wisteria of his face darkens faintly as he drags his hands along the muscles of Genji’s stomach, the thick trail of hair above his cock, wiry and as green as the hair on his head. The creature’s lips fall open, as if in wonder. Curious and pleased by what he sees.

Then those fingers, and the tips of their sharp claws, drag lower.

Genji hisses as a velvet soft fist encircles his cock. His hips snap into the touch without thought; old, dull pain drifts in the background as heat blooms and spreads wherever the creature presses, lightning strikes of pleasure that spider and meet somewhere in the middle. Magic like the first time he ever wanted someone, deep and true, the fire of it in his veins.

“Kiss me,” Genji whispers, a breath, too quiet for the guards to hear.

The creature’s lips are the softest he’s ever felt, smoother than a human’s, enough to make Genji gasp and growl. The creature works his cock steadily, swallowing cries as those plush lips part and spread his own, the smooth, scalding glide of his tongue claiming his mouth, softer still than his lips.

There is little pretense to his motions, a scene the guards have witnessed before, judgement passed. Genji can almost feel their eyes, how they lean closer, and he wonders if it’s the creature bleeding into his consciousness, that he could feel their fear, their hunger. They would not feel how softly the creature’s touches are, how each press cherishes, covets him, something like the horde of lovers Genji accrued in his short life but magnified, extraordinary. Worshipped. Loved.

Genji cracks his head on the stone floor when the creature envelopes him in the pulsing clutch between his thighs, blood-warm and suckling, a thrumming pleasure in his mind and around his cock. The creature’s eyelids flutter, the glow of his eyes flickering. A sense of rightness.

_I have missed this._

His motions are slow, almost dreamlike, but it sparks Genji’s nerves, mind loose and unhinged, shocked through with building pleasure. The creature’s eyes brighten, skin hazy-edged, an aura, much like the dragon beneath his own skin. For a moment, Genji sees wings, transparent and glowing. Then they curl and twist behind him, violet tendrils moving independently of one another. They twist around the creature’s body, tease at the hem of Genji’s torn shirt, round points of suction catching along his skin, grazing his nipples.

There’s motion from the guards, shifting shadows. They draw closer hesitantly, and through the creature’s mind he feels their fear, their shaky lust. Hazy realization dawns in Genji’s eyes.

“Have they hurt you? Tou–”

The creature’s motions do not slow while his emotions pitch. Hunger, loneliness.

_I could not take their lives, so I took in other ways._

_On my knees._

Genji groans, high and desperate; the tendrils latch like mouths against his skin, teasing, kissing, holding tight, granting purchase for the creature to sink onto him faster.

_With my mouth._

He hates how sharp-hot the idea makes him, the creature prostrate, offered up through the bars, marks along his ass, his swollen lips, the same that part and gasp above him now. A sick, heady burn in his stomach as the creature plucks at his thoughts, seeing the lurid picture, grinding his body harder, grasping more greedily.

_I do not need them. Not anymore._

One tendril traces the bloodied bicep of Genji’s birthright, and the viridian mark flares to life, rising to meet the questing touch.

There’s a shout of disbelief, a clambering of footsteps, but the soft lull of power, of the creature, of _Zenyatta_. Yes, the name in his mind, the name he knew, whispered from those same lips decades ago with all the fondness in the world.

The bars rattle, bullets discharging, but they remain unharmed, lost in the glow of purples and greens, in the pleasure still clinging to his body like submergence in a calm sea, the whispers an ebb and flow like gentle waves.

 _Zenyatta_. The name on his lips, but perhaps not, perhaps only a singular word in his mind. His hands clumsily grasp Zenyatta’s narrow hips, urging him faster, and there’s a gasp, a quiet laugh like chimes. His dragon, a strange, enigmatic beast, bested by his brother’s own, rises where once Genji thought it silent forever, curling around them both, ghostly but present.

 _They were wise to take you from me_ , Zenyatta thinks, heated and drunk. He snaps his hips forward, claims Genji hungrily, greedily, that pleasant, quiet restraint breaking. _I will not let you go again._

Joy spills from him, a rapturous, contagious thing, joining the needful shifting of their bodies. Zenyatta shines with his flush, exhaling thought-breaths-groans with each thrust, trembling on an edge that’s never seemed so important, so desperate before. The sight of him urging Genji’s hips faster, the feel of him, the feeling _from_ him engulfing all thought.

 _Yes_ , Genji replies, a mantra laced around Zenyatta’s name, his dragon growling, purring as Genji reaches his peak. Zenyatta rocks in small, lazy slaps, taking everything inside him, a hand pressed to his own stomach like he could feel Genji filling him up, relished in it. The whispers quiet again, only Zenyatta now, eyes nearly closed, feeling between their bodies where they’re still connected, violently hot and swollen. Pleased, content, thrumming with new, slaked energy. With something more as he leans forward to kiss Genji again.

A strange, numb giddiness settles in Genji’s stomach. He can’t remember the last time he felt this safe. This wanted. His dragon recedes into his body as Zenyatta gathers him into his arms, transparent tendrils stroking and clutching him like something precious. Genji rests his head on Zenyatta’s shoulder as he steps past the ruined cell and its guards, uncertain if they are alive, sprawled on the floor but uncaring of it.

Zenyatta clicks his tongue. _One should not revel or despair in killing._

_Fuck them._

Zenyatta does not reply, but Genji feels his quiet amusement.

It’s quiet and dark in the courtyard, too silent for everything that’s happened.

_So, my sparrow, what shall we do? It has been centuries since I have been beyond these walls._

Zenyatta waits while Genji decides, the cool breeze ruffling Zenyatta’s cloak.

Hanzo would look for him. His brother— the tendrils tighten around Genji’s body, holding him closer.

_Anywhere but here._

And in the quiet of the night beneath a starless sky, they escape.


End file.
